


Wingmen

by DonTheRock



Category: High School Musical: The Musical: The Series (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Female Character, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, No Smut, Slow Burn, Teen Romance, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22997347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DonTheRock/pseuds/DonTheRock
Summary: When Big Red Redonovich and Ashlyn Caswell find themselves in the same situation, liking someone who doesn't like them back, they agree to be each other's wingmen to help them get the girls they want. However, their friendship gets a little complicated when they both start feeling things for the wrong people.
Relationships: Big Red & Ashlyn Caswell, Big Red/Ashlyn Caswell, Redlyn – Relationship, Ricky Bowen/Nini Salazar-Roberts, Seb Matthew-Smith/Carlos Rodriguez
Comments: 14
Kudos: 37





	1. High Five?

**Big Red's POV**

Steph's house isn't near big enough to hold the number of people it's holding now, but it's sure trying. Her parents went out of town, so she's having what began as just a get-together with the theatre kids and some of her other friends but has now expanded to include basically everyone in any form of art at East High. It's a fair bit busier than I usually like. The only other parties I've been to have been Ashlyn's, and she only ever had the theatre club invited, but there is a bright side to Steph's party, which also happens to be the only reason why I agreed to come with Ricky tonight. 

Malaak sits in front of me in my English class. I've spoken to her several times, including lending her a pencil and discussing during class why Shakespeare wrote The Tempest. But whenever I think to make a move, she's already moved on. I heard from Ricky that he heard from Steve that Malaak was coming, and he told me I should come and try to talk to her in an informal situation, because I might have better luck. Currently, though, it's been about twenty minutes, and I still haven't seen her around. 

"Do you know where Malaak is?" I ask Ricky as he sips from his can of root beer. 

Ricky scans the room, lighting up as he responds, "Hey, there she is."

I feel my heart start beating in an instant, and nerves build up, but they freeze when I notice that the girl Ricky's looking at isn't the one I was asking about. 

"Ricky, that's Nini," I say.

Ricky glances over at me, blinking out of his focus on his girlfriend. "Sorry, what?"

I shake my head. "Never mind."

Ricky hardly even reacts to that. Instead, he's fully entranced by Nini who waves him over, and he follows like a moth to a flame—or like a lovestruck boy to the girl he writes all his songs about. 

That leaves me alone in the middle of the crowded living room, surrounded by groups of people all chatting and laughing together. I'm not close enough with any of them to feel comfortable walking up and joining in, so I stand on my own for a while, anxiously searching for someone I know within a reasonable distance. 

After a few minutes in, I finally spot the reason I came. She's in the kitchen, digging through the fridge for a beverage. I make sure my collar isn't standing up and head on over. When I get there, she doesn't notice me right away, but when she does, she gives me a smile. 

"Oh, Big Red, hey," she says. 

Malaak's long, chestnut brown hair swings loose as she bends over to scour the shelves in the fridge, but the two pink butterfly clips keep it out of her face. She really is stunning, so much that I often question if I even have a chance with her. Her deep brown eyes draw onlookers in with every blink, and they stand out proudly against the cream-toned, smocked tank top that hugs her frame perfectly. 

She stands up, pulling two cans of cream soda out of the fridge. "Could you hold these for a second?" she asks.

"Uh, yeah, sure," I say, taking them from her. "So how's the short story coming along?"

"Um…" She continues rummaging through the shelf, searching for a particular drink. "Pretty good. I may want some help going over it, though, before I hand it in."

"For sure, I can do that," I say. 

She finally picks out a can of Coke and pushes everything else back into place. 

"Cool. I'll send it to you when I'm done," she says as she stands back up straight. 

She grabs the two cans of pop from my hands and puts them back into the fridge before closing it. 

"Thanks," she says with a smile.

In the next second, she's gone, walking away to join a group of girls by the fireplace. 

"Yeah, no problem," I call out. Then to myself, I whisper, "Yeah."

Disappointed, I look around for a place that isn't crowded or taken over by bowls of snacks. The only spot that is isolated enough for me to go and sulk in is the bay window at the back of the kitchen, so that's where I go. I sink down on the cushion and rest my head against the glass behind me, staring out at the party happening before me. At this point, I'd rather just go home, but Big Red was my ride, so I can't leave unless he wants to too, and as I see him and Nini dancing together cheerfully to some 2000s pop hit, I know that's not going to be anytime soon. 

A few minutes into my social disconnection, I notice someone else sit down next to me at the other end of the bay window seat. Ashlyn's wild hair spills over her face as she leans back, lifting her feet to sit cross-legged on the bench, facing me. She takes a sip from her can of Sprite then lowers it down in her lap.

"Hey," she says. 

"Hey," I respond, giving her a nod. 

"So…" she starts, "how's the bay window? Not into the party much?"

"Not really," I reply. "Parties aren't really my thing."

"Then why are you here?" Ashlyn wonders with a small chuckle. 

"Uh, well, Ricky said I should come. There's this…person I wanted to talk to, but…yeah."

She nods. "Is this a person you like?"

"Yeah," I admit. 

"And I assume you weren't successful with talking to her."

"How could you tell?" I say.

That makes her smile and giggle a bit, and even though I'm still down, I'm able to laugh along with her, as though just telling her has made the memory lighter on me. 

"So why aren't you busy hanging out with your friends?" I ask her. "Aren't you Ashlyn 'Born to Rage' Caswell?" 

She lets out a breath and looks down at her drink in her lap. "Yeah, well, funny thing is, I actually was hoping for the same thing as you. You see that girl over there with the green hair?"

Ashlyn points her chin toward someone in the distance. Not all of her hair is green; the roots are an ashy brown colour. She's currently busy laughing with a boy by the stairs. Right away I can tell she's the kind of person who probably buys about half her clothes at either thrift shops or Urban Outfitters, likely both, for her plaid trench coat has a vintage charm to it, as well as the lacy, white blouse she wears beneath it. 

I look back at Ashlyn, who's still staring at the girl in the crowd. 

"We're friends," Ashlyn explains, "and I started to like her as a bit more, and she said she wanted to come to Steph's party with me but hasn't stopped talking to this one guy since we got here. She thinks I'm nice and all, but she just…"

"Doesn't see you that way?" I finish for her. 

Ashlyn nods. "Yup."

She shifts her eyes from the girl to the window, gazing out at the garden in the backyard, but I keep my attention on her.

"She'll figure it out," I say after a moment. "She'll realize what's she's missing soon enough. You just wait."

That makes her smile a bit, and she looks back to me, responding, "Thanks. The same thing goes for you. You're such a sweetheart. Anyone would have to be crazy to not see how great you are."

I let myself accept the compliment without denial, saying, "Thanks, Ashlyn."

"No problem. And, hey, at least you have Ricky to be your wingman."

"Ricky's kinda preoccupied with Nini, like, pretty much all the time lately," I reply. 

"Well, then I'll be your wingman," Ashlyn says. 

"You?"

"Yeah. I'm great at giving people that shove of confidence to go talk to their crush. Also, I've read a ton of romance novels, so I have plenty of cliché yet charming ways to get a girl to like you."

She laughs again, beaming wide like the open sky outside. 

"Okay," I accept. "You'll be my wingman…or wingwoman, and I'll return the favour by being yours."

At that, she raises her can of pop, saying, "Wingmen."

I don't have a drink to lift, so I just put up my hand, explaining, "Sorry, I don't have a drink for cheers. High five?"

We both laugh, and she hits her free hand to mine, sealing the deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my new story! I'm really excited to write this one, so I hope you will all stick around to read it. No underage drinking here. It's gonna be nice and family friendly, so yeah, I mean, aside from language, but whatever. I can do what I want, right? Anyway, I love you all as always, and have a very dandy day!


	2. April Ball

**Ashlyn's POV**

"Why's everyone hovering around that one specific water fountain?" Carlos wonders. 

I finish shoving my books into my locker and collecting the ones I need for first period before shutting the door and spinning around to see what's got Carlos's attention. A cluster of teens crowds the fountain, but none of them appear to be getting water. After a few seconds, one of them finally moves their head, and I'm able to catch a glimpse of the brightly coloured poster on the wall with "April Ball" in bolded letters. That creates an instant gasp from Carlos, which frightens me enough to make me nearly drop the books in my hands. 

"God, Carlos," I mutter. 

"The April Ball is coming up!" he exclaims. "I forgot about that. I need to think of a special way to ask Seb."

As if summoned by the statement, the blonde boy shows up behind his boyfriend, a soft smile on his face. Seb touches Carlos's shoulder, making him turn. 

"Not if I ask you first," Seb says. 

Carlos stands with his mouth open in a grin for a moment, his eyes clearly in thought. 

Eventually, he says, "That wasn't a question. That means I can still ask you."

Seb doesn't debate. His smile simply grows, and he knots his fingers through his boyfriend's. 

"I can't wait to see what you have planned," Seb says. "It will have to be big to beat the promposal I did for Bessie the cow when I was eight."

"Oh, it will be big," Carlos assures him. 

While the two boys giggle together, I glance around and end up spotting a blur of green hair. When Emilia sees me, she gives me a smile and begins cutting through the stream of kids in the hallway to get to me. I walk over a little too, meeting her a quarter of the way. 

As always, my heart beats faster from the way her beautiful brown eyes sink into me like rain into the ground. Fair freckles speckle her nose, going all the way over the tip and around to her pink septum ring. I remember her telling me the story of when she got that piercing. Her mom said she didn't believe Emilia would actually pierce her nose, and Emilia said, "Bet," and now the girl has a septum piercing. I think it suits her very well. 

"Hi, lovely," Emilia says. "How's life going?"

"Good," I reply. "I was just looking at the poster for the dance coming up."

She glances over at where the crowd is beginning to disperse before looking back to me, saying. "Oh, yeah. I guess it is that time of the year."

"Are you going to go?" I ask. 

Naturally, I want to ask her to go with me, but the nerves blocking my throat convince me to stall a little longer by just asking her questions instead. 

"I'm not sure," she says. Then she adds, "Probably. I just don't know who I'd go with."

That's my cue. My internal voice shouts at my hands to stop shaking and my skin to stop sweating, and I muster together all the courage I have. 

But before I can speak, she carries on, saying, "I guess if I don't have a date, I'll just go with you, 'cause going with a friend is still fun."

That shoots my bravery back down in an instant, and I feel my whole body sink. She doesn't view me as a date. I'm just her friend. I've always been just her friend. I could try to ask her anyway, but then I'd risk her getting all awkward around me if she says no. How do I push aside that fear and just go for it? This is why I need a wingman, but unfortunately he's not here right now, so I'm stuck attempting to fight my nervousness on my own.

"Yeah, sure, of course," I respond, trying to keep my disappointment out of my voice.

_______________________________________

**Big Red's POV**

As soon as I enter my English class, I see Malaak sitting on her desk, talking to one of her friends. I go over to take my seat behind her. When she sees me, she smiles and slides down into her seat, spinning to face me. She props her elbows on my desk to hold her head up, and she looks at me the same way anyone would, but because it's her, it gives my heart a whirl. 

"Hey," she says. "Did you happen to read my story yet?"

"I did," I reply. 

"And...?" she asks eagerly. 

"It was a neat concept," I say. "You did a really good job at describing the emotions throughout it, but did she have to die at the end?"

She puts her hands over her face in embarrassment, laughing while saying, "I didn't know how to end it."

"I mean, killing the point of view character is a pretty solid way to make sure the story is unarguably done, but it's also kinda sad for the teacher to has to read those endings continuously. You'd be surprised at how many students end their stories that way."

"At least I didn't have her wake up with it all being a dream," Malaak replies, giggling, which makes me laugh too. 

"Yes, you have an advantage over that," I respond. 

"How do you think I should end it?" she asks. 

"Why don't you just let the character get the job? Skip the getting hit by a train part."

"But happy endings are boring," she complains. "Trains are fun."

"They're more fun when you're riding them and not getting hit by them."

She shakes her head, laughing. 

Interrupting our conversation comes Nour, one of Malaak's friends, and just like that, the girl's attention is stolen away from me as Nour starts telling Malaak about the manicure she got yesterday. Malaak is drawn in by the royal blue nails, and I lean back in my chair, taking out my phone to try to distract myself until class starts. 

Right away, I notice that I have a text from Ashlyn, and I open my messages to read it. 

**Ashlyn:** Meet at Publik after school? First rule of being a wingman: know the person you're being a wingman for.

I smile. Ashlyn is actually committed to this. In all honesty, I figured she probably only said that to cheer me up, but it makes me happy to know that she actually does care about me. 

**Me:** I'll be there.

 **Ashlyn:** :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is such a short second chapter. Anyway, the story currently looks like it's going to be approximately 9 parts. I'm excited for it. There are some moments that I'm really looking froward to writing. I love you all, and have a lovely night.


	3. You'll Never Know If You Don't Try

**Big Red's POV**

Publik is one of those cafes where it's always busy but never full, so it's easy to trust that there will be an open table. Ashlyn drinks her chai latte while I sip the white hot chocolate that I always get when I come here. I don't actually come here often. I prefer a night at home with video games and KFC over cafe hangouts, but Ashlyn tells me how her family used to come here a lot with EJ's as kids, so she has memories ingrained in this place.

"So did you talk to her today?" Ashlyn asks. 

"Talk to who?" 

"The girl you like. What's her name?"

"Oh, Malaak," I respond. "Yeah, we spoke, but not a lot."

"Well, what did you talk about?"

"English, mostly. That's the class we have together."

"Okay, let's start there," Ashlyn says. "Try to talk to her about stuff other than school. Get to know her interests. Open up about yourself too."

"The only person I open up to is my orthodontist when he tells me to open wide."

That makes Ashlyn laugh as she replies, "Well, then you'll have to get comfortable with that. She can't like you if she doesn't know you."

"That's...a fair point," I admit. "But she mostly just talks to me for help with school."

"Then invite her over to study or something," Ashlyn replies. "If you two get along well outside of school, then that's a really good sign."

"I'd love it if I could ask her to the dance," I confess, "but she wouldn't say yes."

"You never know if you don't try."

"Well, have you asked your crush to the dance yet?"

Ashlyn hesitates before replying, "I was going to."

"But you didn't?"

"No. I was scared." Ashlyn brings her cup to her lips, preparing to take a sip after she finishes explaining the situation. "Her name is Emilia. We've been friends since September when we were lab partners for finding out our blood types in biology."

"What's your blood type?" I ask, interrupting her thought. 

"O negative."

"Cool. Me too."

"Oh, awesome. If I need blood, I know who to call." We both take a few seconds to laugh before she continues, "Anyway, I'm just scared she'll get awkward if I ask her and she doesn't say yes."

"Well, you'll never know if you don't try," I throw back at her. 

"Yeah, well, it's easy to say that when it's not you trying," she says. 

"Sounds like hypocrisy to me."

"I'm not being hypocritical. I'm just..." She sighs. "Fine."

She tilts her cup, pouring out the last of her chai latte into her mouth. I glance down at my own quarter-finished beverage before looking back to her in shock. 

"You really like chai lattes, huh?" I say. 

She nods. "When I was, like, six, some person on a train offered me a sip of his, and I loved it."

"Wait, you drank a stranger's beverage?" I say. "Isn't that, like, the definition of what not to do?"

"I was six," she tells me. "I only saw a free drink."

I chuckle. "I'm assuming it wasn't drugged?"

"I mean, I was a weird kid, so it could've been, and just nobody noticed," she replies with a laugh. 

"I'm sure you weren't weird," I tell her with a smile.

She raises her eyebrows. "Did you put on puppet shows by tying strings to your bears and hanging them over the railing of the hallway above the stairs? Did you threaten to join a gang if your parents didn't buy you a cotton candy milkshake every day?"

"Well, I'm lactose-intolerant, so I wouldn't have wanted those," I say. 

"It's not cow milk," Ashlyn corrects me. "It's oat milk."

"Then maybe I would want those," I reply. "Where are they from?"

"There's this place downtown," Ashlyn answers. "They have all kinds of milkshakes with a bunch of different milks. But get the cotton candy one. It's the best."

"That's your favorite?"

"Yes," she confirms. "It's so good."

"I'll have to try it sometime."

Ashlyn's phone distracts her from our conversation as she pulls it out to read a text she just received. 

"Hey, sorry, I have to get going," she says. "My dad wants me home for dinner, and I have to take the bus, so I shouldn't wait too long."

She stands up, picking up her cup, and I rise with her. 

"I can drive you if you want," I offer.

She shakes her head. "You really don't have to do that."

"I know," I say. 

Her eyes come up to meet mine, and a smile grows on her face. 

"Okay," she agrees. "Thanks."

We recycle our cups, and I lead Ashlyn out to my car. After opening my door, I look up to see her gazing at my vehicle with a her jaw hung open. That's when I remember the reason she's staring: there's a dent in my grey sedan about the size of a foot just under the front headlight. Eventually, she carries on with getting into the passenger seat. 

As she buckles in, she asks, "Should I be fearing for my life?"

"That was from Ricky," I explain. 

"How?"

"He was texting while skateboarding and rammed right into it. I'd just gotten the car too."

She lets out a chuckle in astonishment, while I start the car and back out of the parking spot then turn onto the road. 

"I'm a good driver, I swear," I say. 

"The way you just changed lanes so abruptly tells me otherwise," Ashlyn comments. 

"I'm at least better than you."

"I don't have my licence."

"My point."

She looks at me and shakes her head in defeat, giggling. I haven't heard her laugh much before today, so I never realized what a nice laugh she has until now. It's sweet like butterscotch and soft like the sparse clouds in the sky. It makes me smile even while the asshole in front of me cuts me off. 

"Okay, but I actually cannot wait to get a car," Ashlyn says. 

"Yeah, driving is nice," I agree. "It's a lot of freedom."

"Oh, I don't care about driving. I just want to be able to sit on the roof."

That makes _me_ laugh this time. "You're going to buy a car just to dent it by sitting on its roof?"

"Hey, a car's roof can hold five times the car's weight without caving in," Ashlyn informs me. "I googled it. I would sit on someone else's roof, but no one will let me."

"What would you do on the roof?"

"I would take the car to somewhere out of the city, somewhere where I can see the entire world unfolding in front of me, and I'd sit on the roof and just exist."

"That sounds…pretty nice," I respond. 

"Yeah," she says as she leans her head back on the headrest. "I think it will be."

Her eyes fall to gaze out the window at the houses we pass by. When we come to a stop at a set of traffic lights, I glance over again, seeing that the red of the girl's hair is even more vibrant in the evening sunlight, and I catch a reflection of the rays sparkling in her eyes. After a moment, she looks back at me.

"It's green," she says. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I actually really love this chapter. I know it's short, but I think it's really cute. Anyway, thank you for reading, and I'll see you soon with chapter 4. XOXO – EJ (that's me).


	4. Not a Thing

**Big Red's POV**

I sit with Ricky in the library during Study Hall, watching as he chews his pencil eraser in contemplation over his math work. I don't think he even notices that he does it. I think it happens subconsciously, but I've noticed it for as long as we've been friends. 

"Hey, do you understand logarithms?" Ricky asks after spending ten minutes on the same question.

"Dude, nobody understands logarithms," I reply. "I'm pretty sure even the people who made it knew it would be completely useless and overly complicated. Sorry. Try Google."

Ricky nods, responding, "Cool, thanks."

He turns his head back down to his work and takes out his phone to try my suggestion. While he's busy working, I should be doing my own schoolwork on the French Revolution, but my eyes keep wandering up to the girl sitting three tables away by herself. She has her dark hair tucked behind one ear while she reads a book. 

Interrupting my daydream comes Ashlyn plopping down on the chair next to me. Ricky doesn't even notice her. He's too wrapped up in trying to decipher the math problem, which is fine, because she's here for me, not him.

"Look at her sitting all alone over there," Ashlyn whispers. 

"What are you suggesting?"

She tilts her head and gives me a look, saying, "You know what I'm suggesting. Go talk to her."

"Uh..." 

My heart is already picking up the pace, and I haven't even agreed to go over yet. 

"Come on," Ashlyn pushes. "Just do it."

"I would, but my mom always told me not to listen to peer pressure."

"This isn't peer pressure. It's positive encouragement. You literally asked for this when you said you wanted me to be your wingwoman."

I nod and try to muster together the courage to go over, but then I realize something.

"Wait, don't you have a class during this perod? You've never had study hall at the same time as me before."

"We had a test, and I finished early," she explains. "Now go."

She gives me a nudge, and I listen, standing up from my chair. When I walk away, I hear Ricky asking Ashlyn where I'm going, and she gives a vague response about me going to follow my heart. As I approach Malaak's table, she glances up from her book and gives me a big smile. 

"Hey," she says. "What's up?"

I sit down and try to come up with a quick reason for why I'm talking to her that doesn't involve me liking her. 

"What book are you reading?"

She tilts the cover up for me to see. 

" _The Perks of Being a Wallflower_ ," I read. "I haven't read the book, but I've seen the movie, and it was really good."

"It is," she says with a smile. "You should really read it. The books are always better than the movies."

"No, but some movies get pretty close," I say. 

"Really? 'Cause every time I think of a book that's been made into a movie, my default is always _The Hunger Games_."

"Oh, no, that was awful," I say. "I mean it wasn't awful, but, you know..."

"Everything was different" the finishes for me. "Yeah." 

She lets out a laugh. It doesn't sound the same as Ashlyn's. It's higher and more adenoidal than hers, but I don't mind it. 

"I really should be working on my story, though," Malaak says, switching topics, "but I'm having some trouble putting your ideas into it in a workable way."

Here's my window of opportunity. I'll take Ashlyn's suggestion to ask Malaak to study with me, and Ashlyn will be so proud. 

"Well, if you want, you could come over sometime, and I could help you look at it."

"That would be fantastic," she replies. "How's Saturday?"

"Saturday works great," I respond. 

She smiles at me, and I feel happy with myself. I can't wait to tell Ashlyn. 

**Ashlyn's POV**

"So why exactly are you being his wingman?" Ricky questions. 

I've been trying to explain the situation to him, but he doesn't seem to be comprehending it. I don't understand what's so complicated. It seems pretty straight forward to me.

"He likes Malaak," I restate.

"That I know," Ricky responds. 

"And I'm helping him get the confidence to ask her out."

He gives me the classic Ricky look of confusion. "Why are you helping him get together with her?"

"Uh, because he likes her."

"Yeah, but…I don't know. Personally, I don't think Malaak is a good fit for him," Ricky shares. "I kind of thought you and him would be a good couple."

That catches me off guard. Big Red and me? No. Not a thing. Even if I did like him, he doesn't like me, so even if I did think his eyes sparkled, or like how he's quirky in an adorable way, or like when he smiles all softly… 

"No," I deny. "We're not a thing."

Ricky nods. "Yeah, that's clear now that I see you helping him figure out how to impress someone else."

Ricky goes back to doing his schoolwork, but I don't feel like our conversation is settled. 

"I don't like him," I say. 

"Yeah," Ricky replies. "I got that."

"Okay."

"Okay."

I don't like Big Red that way. I know I don't. He doesn't give me butterflies when he smiles the way Emilia does. He doesn't sneak into my dreams at night and steal my thoughts during the day. He's just my friend. 

Soon, Big Red returns, dropping into his seat with a big, dopey grin on his face. 

"Guess what I did," he announces. "I invited her over to study, and she agreed."

"That's awesome," I reply. 

"Yo, nice," Ricky says.

He holds up a fist, and Big Red bumps it, his smile unmoving. 

"You were completely right, Ashlyn," Big Red goes on. "I just had to put myself out there and ask her."

"Yeah," I say. "I'm happy for you."

I am, but for some reason my voice sounds tense. It's probably because Ricky's gotten into my head, and now I'm stuck dwelling on that absurd suggestion that I might like Big Red as more than friends. He's sweet and all, but he's not for me. He's not. I'm pretty sure he's not. I don't know why this is bothering me so much, but I know that as soon as I see Emilia again, I'll forget all about it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello. I'm not sure if this is just going the be the chapter length from now on. I think the future chapters will likely be longer, but I'm not sure. Anyway, I hope you are all liking this story so far. As always, I love you all. Thank you! Have a lovely night.


	5. One Thing

**Ashlyn's POV**

Emilia's eyes are lined in the silver eyeliner that I got her for her birthday. I like how it catches sunlight and reflects it back in fragments like geodes under a flashlight. I walk alongside the girl down the path in the park, listening to her talk about the time she saved a bumblebee from dying. 

"When I got home, I gave it sugar water," she explains, "but I accidentally dropped it on his head, and then I put him in my garden, but he died, like, five minutes later."

"Wow," I say with a chuckle. "After you carried it five blocks in your shoe, it had the audacity to die."

"I know!" she agrees, laughing. "Once I'm able to drive, though, I'll be able to save bees at a much faster rate."

"Oh yeah. You're taking your test next week, right?"

"I am. Then we can hang out at places farther than within walking distance."

"I can't wait," I say. "And then once I get a car, I'll return the favour."

"I'm a little scared of how you'll drive," she teases. 

"Well, I'm not planning to drive much anyway," I reason. "I mostly just want to sit on the roof and look out at the view."

"Won't that dent the roof?" she says. "Plus it will be all dirty."

"Well, I'm going to wash my car. Doesn't it seem, like, nice, though?"

"I'm not sure if nice is the word I'd use. Maybe weird."

I know she doesn't mean that in a rude way, but I'm still a bit disappointed. Big Red thought it was a good idea. I wish Emilia thought the same as him. But having different opinions doesn't mean we're not meant to be together. It's not even that big of a deal, I suppose. I'll sit on my car when I'm alone. I don't need to have a romantic kiss or look at the stars while holding hands, though that was my initial daydream. 

"I wish I could get my license before the dance, though," Emilia goes on. "Right now, my brother's driving me."

We continue down the path together, and I feel her warm hand brush mine as it swings back and forth. If this were a movie, this would certainly be the moment when the audience begs me to take her hand and make their ship come true, but I don't quite have the confidence for that, so I go with the next best thing.

"Speaking of," I say, "you know how we were going to go as friends. Well, what if we went not as friends."

She just looks at me in confusion, which is honestly valid. I wasn't very clear about what I wanted. 

"I'm asking you to be my date," I sputter out. 

She stops walking and just stares at me for a moment, clearly caught off guard, but she doesn't look repulsed. She just looks like she's thinking. I get more nervous by the second, but eventually she gives me an answer. 

"Yeah, sure."

Sure isn't exactly the word I was hoping for, but it's still a yes. A smile grows on my face, which is mirrored by hers as she lets out a nervous giggle. 

"Okay," I respond after a moment. "Awesome."

"Awesome," she repeats. 

She turns to start walking again, but I stray behind her a bit so that I can take out my phone and text Big Red, too eager to wait to tell him. 

**Me:** Emilia and I are going to the dance together!

I get a response almost immediately. 

**Big Red:** That's great news.

 **Big Red:** We should celebrate. 

**Me:** What are you thinking?

 **Big Red:** I'll be at your house at 8:00.

 **Me:** I'll be waiting.

_______________________________________

I see the glare of the headlights on the glass of my bedroom window. Instantly, I shut my textbooks and leave them behind on my bed as I rush down the stairs. When I grab my jean jacket off the coat rack by the door, my mom notices me from the living room. 

"Your friend's here?" 

"Yup, I've got to go."

"What time with you be home?" she wonders.

"Whenever he brings me back."

I give her a smile before heading out the door. The evening is surprisingly warm, and the plants are still, as though stuck in a trance. I want to run to his car, feeling excitement over everything that's happened today, but I make myself stay calm and collected, strolling up to the passenger's side door with a suppressed grin. 

As I enter in, the red-haired boy looks at me with a cute smile, saying, "Hey."

"Hey," I reply. I buckle up my seatbelt and glance back over at him. "So where are we going?"

"Well, first, we're going to get cotton candy milkshakes, and then we're going to drink them on top of my car."

I'm dumbfounded, shocked that he actually remembered those things I said. Not only did he remember, but he wants to do them with me. 

"No way," I say, feeling like he must be joking. He cannot be this sweet. 

Big Red smiles, seeming to radiate the light missing from the shadows outside. Maybe the wind is so gentle outside because it's trying to compete with the soft simplicity of this boy's good nature. Still, I don't think it's much of a competition at all. He wins without question. 

There's something about him that always gives him the advantage, like he was made to perfectly take on every shape that's left empty. Emilia doesn't have that. She is bold and coarse, and she makes no effort to be something needed, but instead thrives in being something extra. Big Red is odd in that he doesn't try to be anything at all. He is just himself, and himself happens to a perfect match to every piece of every puzzle out there. There's just nothing about him that needs to change. 

I don't know which characteristic I prefer, but what I know is that when he starts the car and steers away from the curb, my eyes naturally want to fall on him to take in everything he does.

________________________________________

**Big Red's POV**

Ashlyn was correct about the milkshake; it's delicious. I drink it while the two of us sit crosslegged and facing each other on the roof of my sedan, and I find my eyes struggling to look anywhere except her. With the view of all of Salt Lake City to my right on this roadside where we're parked, it should be easy to appreciate the beauty of the night, but my mind is wrapped up around the girl sitting in front of me, subconsciously trying to figure out how to move closer so that our knees can be touching. 

"See, I told you you'd love it," Ashlyn says after taking another slurp from her paper straw. 

"Yeah, you were right," I agree with a chuckle. "How come you're always right?"

"That's an overstatement," she humbly denies. 

"I don't think it is. You were right about the milkshakes, right about the roof, and right about asking Malaak to study."

The mention of that girl's name seems to suck away some of the whimsy of the moment as the clouds overhead become denser. I don't know why I brought up Malaak. It feels like a mistake, but I don't know why. 

Ashlyn takes a few seconds to respond, "Uh, yeah. I guess so. Now you just need to ask her to the dance."

That's been the plan from the start, but something about it feels different now, now with us sitting on top of the world, or at least the top of Salt Lake, and me slowly inching forward to occupy the air that keeps us separate. Can the plan change? What would I change it to if it did change?

"Yeah, now that you've already asked Emilia," I say, forcing my spirits not to pull my voice down. "You must be really happy."

Ashlyn's eyes stay on me for a moment before flickering down at her beverage. 

"Uh, yeah," she says with a light smile. "I guess so."

She doesn't bring her eyes back up to mine, so I direct mine out at the buildings towering in the distance. I wonder if she can feel the weight of the sky on us right now too or if it's all in my own head. After a minute, Ashlyn lets her gaze follow where mine is, landing somewhere in the starlit view. 

"I've always wanted to see the East coast," she says eventually. 

"You've never seen it before?" 

She shakes her head. "Only in photos."

"I've been there before," I tell her, "when visiting family members in Virginia."

"I bet it's beautiful," she responds. 

"I know of at least one thing more beautiful."

She looks at me, and as she does, her knees come into contact with mine, and for that split second, I feel my heart spiral in my chest. When did being around her become an amusement park ride? 

"Malaak, right?" she assumes. 

And now I'm on the drop, when everything inside me sinks. 

"Uh, yeah," I lie. 

Silence crashes over us as the ride stops. Neither of us speak for a while, but that's okay, because my head is making enough noise for the both of us. Even as the operator unlocks my restraints and tells me to get off the ride, I stay seated. I'm not sure I want to get off, but she does, and there's no point in me staying here when she has another ride named Emilia waiting for her. 

If I were to try, how would I change the plan? I suppose I can't. I suppose I should just carry on and hope that whatever I'm feeling for Ashlyn fades away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three more parts left! I know there's only, like, two people reading this, and any sane person would probably discontinue this story if they were me, but I have a reputation of being reliable, and I am still looking forward to the ending, because I think it's gonna be cute, so I'm gonna continue to do my best with writing the last few parts. If you are liking this, though, please let me know. It gets hard when I feel like I'm writing for a ghost. Anyway, that's all.


	6. Oh

**Big Red's POV**

Malaak's books are spread out on the table in my dining room, shuffled in with mine. I can tell which ones are hers because they're in perfect condition, as though they've never been opened, yet I've seen her open them in class. The lack of bends or tears on the pages amazes me. 

Currently, she's staring at her computer screen where her story is pulled up. As she explains parts of her story, I consider the possible changes that could be made, making a mental list to be ready for when she asks for them. 

"So I have the police here," she says, "but they don't seem to fit in well."

"Police don't often hang out at baby showers, unless the baby's parents are serial killers," I respond. "Maybe that's why."

"But how do I introduce them into the story otherwise? I need to get them in."

"You could just drop them altogether," I suggest. "They don't need to be in the story to make it work. Plus, sometimes it's better to keep things simple and easy to follow, rather than trying to make it more complex. Only bring characters in if they have a purpose. If you could drop them, do it. Otherwise, you'll just have to explain more to your reader."

"That makes so much sense," Malaak says.

She types a note into the Google doc, making only the dullest click on the keys. It's nothing like Ashlyn. She types strong and precise, the way she plays the piano. I always liked watching her during the winter musical rehearsals when she would dive into a song and her fingers would find the keys without a thought. The music directed her along, not her head, and she gave every ounce of herself to her songs, letting it all echo out in the room at the end of the song for her watchers to collect. 

"How do you know so much about making stories?" Malaak wonders, thawing my daze. 

"Oh, um, I read a lot as I kid," I reply. "I'm also in the school's theatre club, so I know a bit about developing characters, 'cause if we didn't have enough people, we just cut the character and gave their lines to someone else, and the play worked perfectly fine without them. Like how Ryan's parts in Stick to the Status Quo were given to Sharpay, because Rico couldn't sing well."

"Interesting. I didn't realize you were in the theatre club."

"Uh, yeah, that's, like, half my personality now.. I joined it with Ricky at first, but it actually became really fun."

"That explains why i see you hanging around EJ's cousin a lot," she figures. "I knew she was in musicals and stuff."

She only knows her as EJ's cousin. I had forgotten that other people don't know her like I do. They don't know how much of her heart she puts into her songs. They don't know that she doesn't do anything unless she's going to give her all to it. They don't know that her laugh could end a war with its melody, or that her eyes sparkle when she's sitting on top of a car, looking out at the city lights. 

But none of those things should matter. None of those things can matter. She's already asked someone else to the dance, and she doesn't see me that way at all. I need to get over this, and my frantic head can only think of one way to do that right now. 

"Hey, Malaak, are you going to the April Ball?"

She looks over from her computer screen, a slight smile on her face as she responds, "Not currently."

"Well, would you like to go with me?"

She takes a moment, her grin growing a bit more. Strangely, I don't feel near as nervous asking her now than I used to be at even the thought of asking her. I'm just not hanging on to her answer like I was before. 

"I would love you," she replies finally. 

_______________________________________

**Ashlyn's POV**

The A&W parking lot is nearly empty, which I guess is to be assumed at 11:02 at night. The parking block is cold as I sit down next to Big Red with my Beyond Meat burger and my root beer. Before, we used to always have a specific purpose when hanging out, but now we tend to just text each other randomly with a location in mind, and not once have either of us declined. It's nice seeing him, because whenever I do, I always leave happier than when I got there, like recharging some kind of internal battery. 

"I wish the dining room was still open," Big Red comments. "I like getting the frosted glasses."

"Plus, then there are free refills," I add. "Me, Carlos, and Seb come here for hours sometimes, and we always just keep refilling our root beers, and if you take their survey, you get a free sucker."

"Well, we'll have to come back sometime when more than just the drive-through is open."

"Absolutely."

I take out my burger and chomp down, and there's a minute of quiet while the two of us eat, before he finishes chewing.

"My study date with Malaak went well," Big Red says. 

Oh, yeah. He was seeing her today. The reminder kind of sours my smile, for reasons I don't know yet—or maybe I just don't want to accept. He's always liked Malaak, and I'm happy it's working out, but thinking about him being with her gives me a gross twist inside. I'd kinda rather he just stay here with me on this parking block, staring out at empty asphalt, knowing that there's so much opportunity for us to fill that space with just our words, because I'd certainly tell him anything he cares to hear, and he doesn't hold back from me either. 

_That's great,_ I should say. Or maybe, _I'm so happy for you._ Or, _She's so lucky._

"Oh," is what comes out. 

"And we're going to the dance together," Big Red continues. 

"Oh," I say, this time, sounding even more glum. "I mean, that's fantastic." 

He looks at me skeptically, which is fair. I wouldn't believe me either. But I force myself to keep a smile, because there's no reason I shouldn't be smiling. He just scored a date with the girl of his dreams. 

"Everything okay?" he wonders. 

"Yeah, yeah," I insist. "Everything's fine."

He nods and returns his eyes ahead of him, but a frown is still etched into his expression.

"Everything okay for you?" I reflect back to him. 

"Yeah," he utters quietly. "Everything's fine." 

We finish eating in silence, uncomfortable, heavy silence that I swear has the power to crush a city, but for some reason I'm still alive. He scored a date with the girl of his dreams. 

Maybe I just wish that girl were me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. There's only two more left, so it's going to be fun. Anyway, I'm going to try to post those two today. Until then, have a good morning, and stay safe and stay healthy. Pomegranate is a cool fruit. Beets are a cool vegetable. If the apocalypse is upon you, may the universe treat you with kindness. Good day.


	7. Really Good

**Big Red's POV**

I wait outside Ashlyn's house with the engine still on, ready to get moving again as soon as she steps in. Today is the day of the dance, and Ashlyn either had to walk to school from her house, which would take at least 20 minutes, or she could get a ride from me, and I was more than happy to offer my car. 

However, my plan to leave right away gets shattered when she steps out of her house wearing a turquoise dress, my favorite colour, with a white blouse layered beneath it. She always has really intricate outfits with pieces that wouldn't necessarily match on anyone else, but on her it just works. It's easy to make anything look beautiful on such a beautiful girl. 

"Hey," she says as she climbs into my car.

It takes me a moment to get past my awe so that I can respond, "Hi."

"You look good," she says. 

I glance down at my dark green quit with my grey plaid bow tie. I look fine, but I'm not even close to her level.

"You look—" I try to come up with a word to accurately describe my thoughts but I can't, so I settle for "—really good."

Her stare stays with mine, and I can see the reflection of the streetlights in her eyes. I can't be sure in this lighting, but I think she's blushing. I know I am. 

Eventually, she looks to the road and says, "Shall we go?"

I collect my thoughts enough so that I can remember how to drive. 

"We shall," I say, shifting the gear out of park.

_________________________________________

**Ashlyn's POV**

"Big Red, Ashlyn," Mr. Mazzara greets at the table.

He scans his clipboard and highlights our names. 

"You two are at table 14."

"Uh, both of us?" I say, surprised. 

I glance over at Big Red who doesn't seem to know what's going on either. 

"Yes," Mazzara confirms. "Now go. You're holding up the line."

Big Red and I step aside and start into the gym as our teacher waves us away.

"That's a nice coincidence," he says as we walk together. 

I feel my hand brush against his, and it causes me to jerk to the right, away from him, creating a bit more space. I shouldn't be that close to him. He's not my date. My date is the girl who smiles at me from the table, alongside Malaak, Ricky and Nini. Emilia's suit is plain black, not at all measuring up to fun of Big Red's, but her green hair makes up for the lack of colour, glowing in the black lights of the East High gym. Ricky eyes me the whole time while I take the empty seat between him and Emilia, on the opposite side of the table from Big Red. 

"Nice suit," I say to Emilia as Big Red greets his own date. 

"Thanks," she responds. "Nice dress."

"So," Ricky says, tugging my attention toward him, "Big Red drove you here?"

"Yes," I reply. 

He nods for a moment before adding, "Turquoise is his favorite colour, but I figure you probably knew that."

I may have. Okay, I totally have. Why does he think I wore this dress? 

"Cool," I reply, and Ricky lets out a sigh as I turn back to Emilia. 

I hear the song on the speakers switch to one I know, and I'm eager to get up and dancing. Anything to get away from Ricky and Big Red and my feelings for Big Red. 

"Wanna dance?" I ask.

Emilia nods and stands up. I start toward the dance floor, and she takes my hand, something that startles me a little, but I let it happen, because I know I should want it. Still, if I don't look at her, I can pretend it's not her hand in mine. Then again, her hand is much smaller than Big Red's. Hers doesn't envelop mine the way I imagine his would. She's just not him. 

I'm thankful it's not a slow song, because I am able to keep my distance from the girl as we shimmy to the beat, and I try to pretend we're just friends again, and there's nothing to feel awkward about, but the painful truth hits every time she looks up at me again. 

"I didn't know you were such a good dancer," she compliments.

"Well, I am in the musical," I say. 

She never came to the winter musical, so she never got to see me perform back then. Big Red, on the other hand, was watching me the whole time I sang my solo from the back of the audience. It was hard to see him, but I could make out his smile through the streaks of light. Looking back, I think he might've made the spotlight brighter when I came on stage. Maybe that's just wishful thinking. 

Emilia continues dancing, and I try to focus on the good things about her, but my mind keeps connecting those to the better things about Big Red, and pretty soon, I'm just waiting for the dance to be over.

**Big Red's POV**

I find myself staring at Ashlyn as she and her date spin around together. Every once in a while, I see her eyes flick over to me then leave again, but mine are on her the whole time. I don't realize how long I've been watching her until Malaak finally speaks up, and I remember that she exists too. 

"Hey," she says, "I'm going to go get some punch."

She doesn't exactly look thrilled as she gets up and struts away across the gym. I bet she can tell that I'm not fully focused on her. Anyone with half a brain in their head could, which happens to include Ricky and Nini. 

"I have a question," Nini says. "Why did you ask Malaak to the dance if you were just going to stare at Ashlyn the whole time?"

I feel a little taken aback by the frankness of the question, mostly because I don't have an answer prepared, and I'm not good at improv. 

"Uh…"

"Come on, dude," Ricky says at my lack of a response. "It's obvious that you'd rather be over there with Ashlyn than here with Malaak."

"Uh, well…" I start. I don't really know what I should be explaining, but I figure I'll give the general idea of the situation. "Ashlyn was supposed to be my wingwoman, and I was her wingman, but now I think I like her more than Malaak."

"Then tell her that," Ricky insists. 

"I can't," I respond. "She has a date."

Ricky purses his lips and furrows his brows before saying, "Yeah, I don't think she's all that happy about that either."

I glance over at Ashlyn once more, seeing her curly hair bounce as she steps around. She's not laughing though. I wonder if Emilia wants to hear it too as much as I do. 

When I look back to Ricky, I'm feeling overwhelmed by the situation, so I stand up.

"I think this was a mistake," I say. "Tell Malaak I'm sorry."

"Are you leaving?" Nini questions. 

"Yes," I say before turning around and hurrying out of the gym.

**Ashlyn's POV**

The DJ was doing so well up until this point. Previously, it had been nothing but upbeat, quick songs, but now, now I want to write a strongly-worded complaint to the company. The slow song does what all slow songs do. It separates the crowd into couples, and Emilia of course drifts up to me. 

"Can I have this dance?" she asks. 

That reminds me of the song from High School Musical 3, which of course reminds me of the musical, and then Big Red, but I push away the thought. She puts her hands up on my shoulders, and I hesitate to take her waist. Between us, there is more than enough for Jesus. There's room for Noah's whole-ass arc here, and I am very comfortable with that distance.

"You can come closer," Emilia tells me in a gentle voice. 

I let out a nervous laugh and begin a step in, but as soon as I start, I stop, letting go of her. She looks at me in confusion, and I just feel sorry. I wish I had never asked her to be my date in the first place. 

"I'm sorry," I say. "I just— You're really amazing, but I just can't."

She doesn't respond, too thrown off by my sudden shift of mind. After a second of us just standing there in strange silence, I step away, leaving her behind on the dance floor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, one more chapter. It's going to be much shorter, because it's the last one, but I'm excited nonetheless. Have a lovely day, lovelies, and I'll see you soon!


	8. Someone Else

**Ashlyn's POV**

It's cold outside. Not the temperature. The temperature is warm. The isolation is cold, the pure confusion I feel is cold. I wish I could rewind back to when Big Red was driving me home from the cafe and take a little longer examining what was sitting right beside me behind the wheel. Maybe I would've realized that the person I truly wanted to be with was right there. It seems so obvious looking back. 

I take in the fresh air as I lean back against the school wall. I can't go home. Big Red is my ride. But I really wish I could leave right now. I could certainly walk 20 minutes. With my residue of anxiousness over the whole situation, I could probably make it home in 15. When I glance over to the sidewalk, considering the option, I notice someone sitting on top of a car in the parking lot, and then I realize that car is a grey sedan, and the boy on top is Big Red. 

I stroll up to the car and look up at the boy. "Hey."

He flinches at my voice and whips his eyes to me. 

"Oh, hey," he says. "What are you doing out here?"

I glance back at the school then return my focus to him, asking, "Can I join you up there?"

He nods, and I climb up onto the roof, using the open window ledge at a step. My feet tap his as I settle next to him, but when I retreat away, he shifts his whole self in a little, cutting out much of the room for Jesus. It makes my pulse pick up, even though surely nothing more will happen. Then again, he is outside here with me rather than inside with his date. 

"So I ask again," he says, "why aren't you in there, dancing with Emilia?"

"I guess I just realized that it didn't really feel right," I respond. "Being with her, I mean. What about you? Why are you out here?"

"Uh, I ran away when Malaak went to get punch," Big Red confesses. 

"Why?" I question.

The way he looks at me causes my spine to tingle, and I feel my breath stutter as it fights with my heartbeat to wreak the most havoc on my body. 

"I realized I didn't like her as much as I liked someone else," he answers. 

I don't want to get my hopes up. He could be talking about anyone. But the hopeful part of my screams, begging for it to be me. 

"Who?" I ask. 

Big Red lets out a breath. "I'll give you a hint. She likes cotton candy milkshakes, Sara Bareilles, and sitting on top of cars."

That's me. He's describing me. 

"There's one other thing she likes," I say. 

He furrows his brows. "What?"

"You."

I bring my hand up to hold his jaw as I kiss him, and he puts his hand over mine, warming it from the outside in. He holds me captured in the moment, and I hear the screaming in my head silence as he steals all my thoughts from me, replacing them all with only one: him. There's a mutual sense of desperation transferred between us both, as though this has been building up since we took our first breaths to now, him giving me that breath, and me giving him mine. Before, I wished I had known my feelings for him sooner, but there's no regret anymore. All I need is this, him, now, and nothing else matters. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies. We are done. Thank you all for reading. I do love everyone who stuck around for this. Have a good day and night!


End file.
